Of Lies, Murder And Love
by BloodAndDiamonds
Summary: Demyx had only expected the night of Babysitting to be boring and typical. He wasn't supposed to be hunted by a murderer. And he's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to fall in love with that murderer either... Zemyx
1. The Stranger Calls

**A/N**: Well, after being _fantastically _flamed a few weeks ago on my writing skills for this story, I sat down, chortled for a bit at the ridiculousness of such a flame, promptly removed it and started to re-write this story. Because honestly, I was a newly-turned fourteen-year old when I wrote this story the first time round. I'm seventeen now, and I can safely say that I think my writing skills are much, much better than they were the first time I wrote this. So, to that rather _fantastic _flamer, thank you for making me laugh so much and, next time, do bother to check both the published date as well as the date of birth of the author and have the grace to at _least _understand that fourteen year old girls aren't, naturally, brilliant mind-boggling writers. Lovely knowing you though!  
I'm starting to rewrite this, and I'll publish all chapters up at once as well as a notification chapter to those readers who read this four years ago just to let you know it's been rewritten. It may take a while for this to be released; I'm sitting AS-Level exams in a few weeks, after which I plan to stew in laziness until mid-August when I get my results back and begin revising for the next set of exams. Have fun re-reading!

**Demyx**

* * *

"_Larxene_!" The voice, clear and almost whining, echoed down the corridors of the large house until it reached the ears of a sneaky, cackling little girl. "I told you to get to bed an hour ago! I need to do my coursework and I can't do that if you're playing another game of hide and seek!" The voice rose in volume until its owner entered the spacious living room and, with speed only a sportsman could have, dashed behind the plush settee to grab the laughing child.

"I don't _want _to go to sleep, you're _boring_!" Popcorn was tugged from the boy's hair and thrown back into his face as Larxene kicked and struggled, but the boy simply shifted her in his arms and carried her towards the nearest staircase.

"Mhmm, of course, _incredibly _boring, that's why I'm your favourite babysitter." The boy tossed her a cheeky grin, moving his head out of the way of a certain slap to the face as they ascended the stairs.

"You are. I hope you get murdered by that sitter killer!" Larxene was shifted again as a look of understanding passed across the boy's face.

"Aha! So _that's _why you won't go to sleep! You're scared of the big baddie. Well, you shouldn't have watched that film with me, should you? I bet you're _scared _in case poor old me gets killed whilst you and Sora sleep soundly in your beds."

"No. You're a dummy, Demyx. Dummy Dem!" Larxene stopped struggling once Demyx reached the landing of the third floor, and once she was planted on the floor she turned to face him. He tapped her on the nose with his finger before laughing at the pouting child.

"Well, if I'm such a dummy, you can go and get ready for bed on your own then. I'm sure Sora's nightlight can guide you to your room. Off you trot." Demyx watched as Larxene triumphantly walked down the dark corridor of the large house without a single hint of fear in her mind, and once he saw the door to her shared room with her twin brother, he moved back down the stairs.

Larxene and Sora were both very young, at only five years old, and were the twin children of an incredibly rich scientist. Vexen Clesova and his wife Aerith had raised their children strictly but lovingly (on Aerith's part, at the very least) and yet the two children couldn't have been more different. Larxene fancied herself fearless and would proudly beat up anyone who dared to challenge her. Sora, on the other hand, was hyperactive but preferred to do as he was told and only fight back against his sister when it was needed.

Demyx sighed, glancing into a mirror in the hallway as he passed it. His vivid, unusual aqua eyes stared back at him, rimmed with dark circles that proved just how tired the young man was, and his murky blond hair was filled with popcorn seeds from Larxene's earlier fit of anger when he had switched off _When a Stranger Calls _due to it getting a bit _too _scary for the five year old. After all, he was seventeen and he'd been scared out of his wits!

Snapped from his thoughts by a loud ringing, Demyx darted to the main living room and stared down at his mobile phone as it belted out a bell tune for the entire house to hear. Cautiously, Demyx slid the phone up and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" He suddenly felt incredibly stupid at answering a _Withheld _number when heavy breathing met his ear.

"Have… you checked the children?" A sudden urge to vomit overcame Demyx as his heart skipped several beats in his chest and, with a steady yet terrified gulp, Demyx answered.

"Who's this?" His voice, usually so clear, came out like a muffled squeak. A moment later, just before he was about to start screaming the large house down, a laugh resounded down the phone along with a cackle of delight.

"Oh man, I can just _see _your face right now, I just, oh god, I wish I could see your face right now!" Fuming, and far from impressed, Demyx glared out the window and pressed the phone into his ear.

"_Axel_! Don't ring me _again _tonight, or I'll take your lighters from you again you stupid pyromaniac!" The phone was slid shut with more force that strictly necessary, and thrown across the room in annoyance. With a huff of despair, Demyx rooted around for his bag and, once found, decided to settle with some coursework.

The house creaked in the darkness, and somewhere upstairs Demyx could have sworn he heard a window slide open. With only a slight bout of fear, he shrugged it off and returned to his work. The house was relatively old and, despite being modernised inside, still made terrifying creaks throughout the night, and Demyx had become more than used to it. He knew every nook and cranny of the large house, had found passageways and trap doors in the numerous rooms and could utilise them to his advantage if attempting to play hide and seek with Sora and Larxene. The house was _huge_, containing a reception, an entrance hall, two conservatories, two offices, a laboratory, four living rooms, a dining hall, five bedrooms and a ballroom, all spread over three floors, along with the usual bathroom and kitchens. And that _wasn't _including the guest house a few hundred metres from the main house.

* * *

An hour later, with a heavy sigh, Demyx folded his coursework into two and unceremoniously dumped it into his College bag. As he tossed his bag back onto the floor, he jumped in terror at the sight of his mobile phone on the table. Immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck rose and his eyes darted to the clock in the room. Half twelve in the morning. He'd been so engrossed in his work that he hadn't noticed someone placing his mobile onto the table. It gave him chills to know that someone could be so quiet.

The moment he reached for it, it chimed loudly with the sound known to Demyx as an unrecognised number. Fearfully, and wondering if it was Axel playing some sort of trick on him again, Demyx slid it up once more and pressed it gently to his ear.

"Hello?" No response other than heavy breathing. "Axel, if this is you, I _swear _to god your life-" The call ended halfway through Demyx's sentence, and with a renewed terror he switched off the lights and moved into the darkest corner of the room, staring at the entrance to the living room. The large bay windows flooded moonlight into the room, and the doorway and the hallway outside could be clearly seen from where he was standing.

Minutes passed, and after ten minutes and no sounds other than the usual creaking of the house, Demyx shrugged the call off as a practical joke from Axel, and made his way through the house to the kitchens. He'd barely managed to open the door to the brightly lit kitchen before all the lights in the house went out in time with a particularly harsh gust of wind that rattled the window panes in the kitchen. Demyx didn't even need to think of the cliché of the situation before, as he dared to guess would happen, his phone rang once more.

"_Hello_?" More heavy breathing came from the other end, and then-

"Have you checked the children?" Demyx nearly dropped the phone then and there in sheer terror. He knew, almost immediately, that it wasn't Axel on the other end of the line. For one, Axel had no where _near _as deep a voice as that, even if he'd tried extremely hard to put it on. And second, the accent wasn't Axel's. It sounded closer to American, although Demyx couldn't place where in America the accent seemed to come from. The call cut off once more, and in a panicked haze Demyx grabbed a knife from a drawer and fled up the stairs. Visions of the children dead in their beds flashed through his mind, and only once he had practically stormed into their room and checked that they were definitely _safe _did he allow his breathing to calm. He shut the door to their room with a hysterical laugh, and smiled at the warm glow of Sora's nightlight peeking out under the door.

Proceeding to check every inch of the house with the knife bared before him, Demyx felt the fear and shock slowly drain from him, and after using the unused passage from the ballroom to the living room, he collapsed onto the couch with a bout of hysterical giggles. The knife slipped from his hand to the floor, and Demyx couldn't be bothered to pick it up lest he collapse from the effort.

The hairs on his neck shot back up and adrenaline pumped back through his body, however, at the sound of his mobile ringing yet again.

"You didn't find me, did you?" The voice on the other end spoke slowly, tauntingly, and Demyx could practically _hear _the smirk on the man's face.

"Who _are _you?" Demyx's voice was little more than a frightened squeak, and he felt his stomach drop as the too-familiar _beep beep beep _of the call ending entered his ears once more. He froze in fear when, not a moment later, the mobile was plucked from his hand where it was being held against his ear, and he gulped loudly in the silence of the room. Turning slowly, all colour drained from his tanned face when he locked his aqua eyes with the crazed midnight-blue ones of a man only a few years older than himself. But the eyes weren't what worried him.

It was the extremely large, previously discarded by himself, kitchen knife held threateningly towards him that caused his heart to skip a beat.


	2. The Chase

**Demyx**

* * *

Even though the very first instinct to enter Demyx's paralysed mind was to outright _scream _the house down, he managed to keep it down purely because of the knowledge that doing so would be futile, and would likely only put the children in danger. The man before him smirked, seemingly impressed by his silence, and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow as a malicious glint entered his eyes. A graceful aura radiated from the man, and he exuded such dominance and arrogance that Demyx nearly gasped as a revelation hit him.

He was not this man's first victim, and if he kept standing where he was like a gormless fish, he certainly wouldn't be the last.

Demyx analysed the man more than was strictly necessary, noticing that his soon-to-be murderer was, in fact, a good two or three inches shorter than himself. He found himself with nothing to do with that information, however, as a second later the man took a steady step closer to him, and with a surge of strength Demyx pushed him to the floor and fled up the stairs as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. He closed and locked every door behind him, and darted through several hidden passages in an attempt to buy himself time to think of a way out of the situation. Running down the set of stairs in the left wing of the house, Demyx slinked into a small crevice hidden behind a painting, one that was large enough for him to stand in but that didn't lead anywhere in the house. It was the perfect place to hide, and the only way he would leave the hiding place would be if the intruder attempted to harm the children.

With his fingers lightly pulling the painting towards him to prevent it swinging open, Demyx listened carefully for the sounds of the intruder in the dining hall. He could _hear _the intruder breathing heavily outside, and the sound seemed to be coming from all four corners of the dining hall, and yet Demyx could see no one out there. It certainly didn't help that the lights were still off.

He went rigid seconds later, however, when he felt something move behind him and a warm breath tickled his ear as a voice purred out,

"Hiding in small spaces, are we? So many things to do in places such as these… though, I rather think that you shouldn't be babysitting if you're so afraid of the bad man." There was a mocking tone to the voice, and Demyx cursed to himself as a chill worked down his spine. It seemed almost typical of him to lock himself into a hiding place _with _the murderer.

"Not so bad now, are you?" Demyx breathed out, before ramming his elbow behind him and cringing when it connected with a ribcage. He barely had time to think of what to do next before he quickly spun and brought his knee up to meet the man's crotch. Demyx was out of the hiding place and halfway across the room before the man had had time to wheeze out a curse.

"Where to go, where to go, where to _go_? Damnit Demyx, trust yourself to get into this situation!" Demyx pulled open the heavy trap door that led down into the kitchens, and was only vaguely aware of it slamming behind him onto a pair of long fingers before he'd fled down the passage and emerged next to the cooker.

_The woods! Loose him in the woods! Dem, you are a _genius_!_

Thankful for his long legs, Demyx ran through the kitchen towards the back door, and threw himself out in the rain without a second thought. It was a small distance to run in order to reach the woods, but Demyx hardly cared about the distance. All he knew was that he needed to reach the woods, and once inside he had a chance of loosing the man who was hot on his tail. His legs ached and throbbed, and his vision clouded with the rain and his own salty tears, yet he kept on running.

_Almost there!_

He had to have been no more than seven metres aware from the edge of the woods when it happened. His foot caught in the root of a tree, or perhaps an inconveniently placed log, and Demyx fell forwards and face-planted the muddy ground. Within seconds he felt himself being hauled up and flung over the smaller man's shoulder.

The man muttered angrily as he carried Demyx back to the house, and Demyx merely prayed and hoped and _begged _for some way out of the situation. _I don't want to die, please don't let me die_. He was thrown to the floor once they were back inside the house, and his legs and wrists were promptly tied with thick rope.

"You. You are more trouble than you're worth." The words were hissed through gritted teeth as Demyx was dragged through the house back into the living room where he had first faced his assailant. The room was dark, due to the moonlight having being dimmed by the clouds, and Demyx felt another pang of fear surge through him. The man straddled him once Demyx was in the middle of the room, and forced Demyx's arms above his head.

"Now, if you struggle, I will shoot you and leave you here to bleed out on the floor. Do as I say, and I'll kill you quickly. Bear in mind that the quicker way involves me forcing a wire around your neck and slitting your throat. Either way, you'll be in pain." The words were spoken somewhat softly, although with a definite undertone of gruff anger. Demyx started to sob, watching as the man pulled from his pockets a revolver and a deadly looking wire. He was pulled upwards by the front of his clothing, and the wire was placed around the front of his neck and tied at the back, as if ready to be pulled backwards and in the process of doing so, slice Demyx's head off. Demyx looked up in terror at his murderer, and as he did so a tiny sliver of moonlight shone through a crack in the clouds and through the window, highlighting the curious colours in the blond's eyes. Time halted as midnight blue eyes searched the aqua ones, and Demyx could only stare as the man before him cocked his head to the side in wonder. A slate-coloured lock of hair fell in front of his eyes and lightly ticked Demyx's cheek, and Demyx had to refrain from laughing at the contact. He was awfully ticklish.

The moon hid behind the clouds once more, plunging the room back into darkness, and to Demyx's utter surprise the wire was removed from his neck and he was dropped back to the floor. The man untied the ropes around Demyx's wrists with an odd gentleness to his movements, although he was knelt rigidly and awkwardly. Demyx was confounded. What on _earth _had caused the change of heart? Not that he was complaining.

"Who are you?" Demyx asked carefully, kicking the rest of the rope away from his legs and flexing his wrists before him with a frown at the torn skin. The man stood up, and looked down at him.

"My name… is Zexion." The words were spoken slowly, articulately, and with no hint of the earlier accent that Demyx had detected. In fact, the accent that the man had was most northerly British, like Demyx's own, but more refined and with a hint of superiority oozing through the tones. Demyx could only gawk after the man as he took two steps backwards before turning on his heel and running to the bay windows. One was opened and, with one last look behind him, Zexion disappeared through it.

Demyx collapsed into a dead faint two minutes later.

* * *

When he awoke to the smell of blueberry pancakes and batter mix, Demyx bolted upright in the bed and scanned the room as the rest of his senses kicked in. He was in a bed, safe and sound, and looking down he frowned when he realised that his clothes were clean and not creased, not showing a single sign of him having run around outside in the muddy storm. His hair was flat but mussed from sleep, and running a hand through it, Demyx stared confusedly at the door to the guest bedroom.

Had last night all been a dream?

Rubbing his eyes, Demyx shook his head in absolute _relief_. It had to have been a dream! He could have laughed to the high heavens had the door not opened a second later, and Aerith popped her head in through the door.

"Good morning, you slept in mister." The words were spoken with a small smile, and Demyx glanced to the clock and let out a sigh.

_Noon_.

"Good morning. What's that delicious scent I smell?" Demyx asked brightly, and Aerith gave him a wide grin and entered the room with a plate of blueberry pancakes.

"Your favourite, as thanks for looking after the twins. I know they're not easy to look after, so thank you again Demyx." Aerith handed him the plate as well as some cutlery, and as he reached forward to grab them his shirt sleeve pulled up his arm and bared his wrist for him to see. He nearly dropped the plate when his brain registered the cuts and blisters on his wrists that could have _only _come from tight rope chafing against his skin.

Last night had been real.

Zexion existed.


	3. A Meeting

**Zexion**

* * *

By the time the night was over, he wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to do it. He didn't know _why_ he had let the teenager go.

And he certainly, most definitely, did not know why he felt a strange pull to the young man. He was a cold, calculating killer. He murdered those he could and had a method so precise it was nigh on impossible to catch him. Young women had screamed and begged for their lives and he had simply sliced their throats without as much as a blink. But this teenager, practically a boy, hadn't struggled and had accepted death once he'd been captured, and in the millisecond of their eyes locking, his heart had swelled and he'd just _let him go_.

Zexion didn't care, in all honesty, if the young man went to the police. He wouldn't be caught, after all, and he'd not been careless enough to leave any trace of himself behind when he'd visited the house an hour after leaving. He just _had _to see the teen again.

Which explained why, when he'd gone back to the house and cleaned up after himself, he'd cleaned up the unusual teenager and made it seem as though he'd simply gone to bed and had a terribly bad dream.

Zexion frowned grimly. It wasn't enough, he knew it without really needing to analyse the situation too much. A small glimpse of the young man wouldn't be enough in the end, and more than that would endanger both himself and the teenager. He would run the risk of getting caught.

_Who cares?_

* * *

**Demyx**

* * *

He spent the whole of the next day laid out on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, thinking heavily about the previous night. He wasn't attempting to block out terrible memories of nearly being killed, or attempting to resolve the fear and terror he'd felt, no.

If he was honest, Demyx was laid attempting to figure out just _why _he'd been spared, and wondering why the _hell _he couldn't stop thinking of his would-be-killer as a completely and utterly _beautiful _man.

He knew he'd always been an odd child, but this was just _ridiculous_.

In frustration at his inner thoughts and the argument over what he _was _thinking in contrast to what he _should _be thinking, Demyx tossed a pillow towards his iPod docking station to shut it up when the sound of music became _too _loud. Ungracefully, he jumped to his feet and all but yanked the plug from its socket and ignored his mother's protest at the noise from the next room.

Giving a frustrated groan to the empty room, Demyx settled on deciding to try to play his sitar. He stared blankly at the wall for several minutes before, in a sudden rush of inspiration, he started to play a melancholy tune. The music coming from the instrument was different to most of Demyx's original pieces, and was haunting enough to send anyone who would have listened into a trance. The music came from his very soul, weaving through his body to the strings of the instrument and projecting his inner turmoil to the rest of the world who cared to listen.

When realisation hit him, his music juddered to a halt with a pluck of several strings at once, and Demyx nearly fell off the side of the bed with a start.

He'd started to grow feelings and attraction towards Zexion.

Towards a _murderer_.

* * *

Usually, around two or three in the morning, Demyx would wake up slowly with a dry throat and an urge to wander for a minute or two. At these times, he would wander half-asleep downstairs to the kitchen and lean against the sink with a glass, and once the urge to drink had been sated, he would slowly make his way back upstairs.

Tonight, he woke up incredibly quickly with a jolt at the sound of something _sliding shut_. Refusing to look anywhere near the large windows in his bedroom, he scarpered out of the room downstairs and did his usual routine whilst trying incredibly hard to convince himself that there was no one unexpected in the house.

_You're just having nightmares. Of course you're going to be jittery; you were nearly murdered this time yesterday evening! _

Still shaking slightly, he poured the rest of the glass down the sink and cautiously made his way back upstairs to his bedroom. Scanning the room showed him nothing out of the ordinary, and he was halfway into his bed before his eyes focused with a rush of trepidation on the half-open door of the walk-in wardrobe.

The next two minutes, to Demyx's half-asleep mental state, passed in somewhat of a blur. He bordered on wondering if he should scream or investigate, after all he could have simply _left _the door open and screaming would simply result in angry parents. And goodness, he'd annoyed his mother enough today with his odd behaviour.

The next definite moment was the one where he awakened fully. He'd grasped the side of the door, ready to shut it, when one of his parents snored loudly in the next room. Spinning on his heel in terror at the sound, his heart hammering against his chest wildly, he'd bared his back to the wardrobe and had been promptly seized into the wardrobe. One hand had placed itself over his mouth, the other around his waist, and he was dragged to the very back. In the darkness, Demyx couldn't see who it was who had grabbed him until the door was shut and the dimmed light was switched on at its lowest.

If there had been any colour left in his cheeks when he'd been dragged into the wardrobe, it drained when his eyes settled on the man who had been so hell-bent on killing him the night before, only to spare him.

Zexion stepped closer to him, a finger on his own lips and his head shaking slightly. A few strands of his slate hair went astray at the movement, although any attempt by Demyx to fix it was halted when Zexion moved close enough to whisper into his ear.

"I don't know why I'm here, and I don't know why I can't get you out of my head, but I needed to see you again." With every word his lips brushed against Demyx's ear, the contact sending unfamiliar –but not unpleasant- shivers down Demyx's spine and he unconsciously bared his neck to the man.

And then, as if they'd done it a thousand times and this was just standard routine, those lips were on Demyx's neck and he was being pushed backwards until he hit the wall. He was being kissed and nipped and was completely unaware of _anything _other than the heat running along his neck and down his spine, pooling in his stomach and groin as he was pushed again into the wall. He quickly captured Zexion's lips in his own, if only to prevent himself from moaning loudly into the wardrobe, and grabbed the lapels of his coat to swing him around and change their positions. Zexion smirked into their kiss as he was slammed into the wall, his arms coming up to clutch at the front of Demyx's shirt and tightening their grip when he pried Demyx's lips open with his tongue to gain access.

A game of tonsil tennis later, they pulled apart, both panting and thoroughly shocked at the turn of events. Zexion had been expecting Demyx to kick him out, and _not _allow Zexion to snog the young man into next year. At Demyx's nervous grin, however, Zexion was reminded of their situation and took Demyx's hands in his own with a grim look on his face.

"When can I next see you?"

"I- what? Next week-?"

"Not soon enough."

"I, er…" Demyx frowned for a moment, deep in thought, before a stricken look crossed his face and he pushed himself out of Zexion's arms towards the wardrobe door. "Wait, wait, _wait_! You tried to kill me! And you're- I'm trapped in a wardrobe with a murderer, oh god what the _hell_?" Demyx's hand fumbled for the door, but he froze in place when Zexion gripped his wrist and placed a hand over his mouth.

"I don't usually let my victims walk free. If you meet me at the edge of the woods, just past Redglave Drive, at midnight on Tuesday, I swear I'll tell you everything." Zexion removed his palm from Demyx's mouth and replaced it with his lips, exerting a tiny pressure and receiving a moan before he found the door handle and slipped out into the darkness of the night.

Demyx could only shake in delight and fear as he stumbled back to bed.


	4. Midnight in the Forest

**Demyx**

* * *

After spending the entirety of the night laid awake pondering the strange incident in his wardrobe, Demyx was only half-aware for college the next day. His mind kept throwing the vivid memory of cold hands on his hips at him, the feel of chapped lips against his own, and it made him seem incredibly zombie-like to his classmates. After doing nothing more than staring into his bottle of water at the table during the morning break, Axel clicked his fingers in front of his face. Demyx grabbed Axel's wrist before the older boy could so much as _blink_, yanking him forwards so that they were almost nose to nose.

"I _hate _that!" Demyx hissed angrily, clicking his own fingers at Axel to emphasise his point. Axel smirked.

"My, you're touchy today. Still pissed off at me for my weekend stunt? Maybe you got some?" The last sentence was said with a smirk and a wink, resulting in a blush as red as Axel's hair to flare across Demyx's cheeks.

"No!"

"Rejected, then?"

"No. But talk to me about rejection when you've finally understood Roxas' actions towards you." Demyx grinned childishly as he spoke, and Axel narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

"Mhmm, he totally wants me." Although this was spoken sarcastically, Demyx only grinned further and cocked his head to the side.

"_Sure _he does. I can see it plain as day." Axel scowled in reaction, but said nothing, and Demyx stared into his bottle once more. Roxas was currently Axel's latest pursuit, but unlike the last several of Axel's partners, Roxas was actually younger than the redhead. Axel was seventeen and, like Demyx, in the first year of the Sixth Form, and had decided to attend it after persuasion from the blond musician. He'd never seen Roxas before, whereas Demyx had first seen the boy when he was in his second year of Secondary, as he'd attended the school and then gone straight on to the sixth form instead of going elsewhere. Roxas was in his final year of the school and, if Axel kept going the way he was, likely to move elsewhere instead of staying on. Demyx voiced as much, earning a grim look from Axel.

"I know, I know. I just, I don't understand why he won't talk to me. I've done nothing wrong to him." Axel scowled as he spoke, and sunk lower into the bench. Demyx noticed he was reaching for his packet of cigarettes, and promptly swiped the redhead's bag away from him.

"No, you can't smoke inside, remember? There's a smoker's area for a _reason_."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't want to go out there, they all give me dirty looks and I'm not allowed to get into another fight." Axel snatched his bag back from Demyx, rifling through it for a nicotine patch instead. Demyx shook his head fondly.

"Hey, I need you to do me a favour." At those words, Axel looked up suspiciously.

"Depends. I'm not breaking into someone's house _again_ just because you-"

"It's something else. If my mum calls you tonight, tell her I'm in the bathroom and that you'll get me to ring her right back. And then text me to tell me she called. If she asks, we're doing a media project together and we're editing film footage or something." Demyx spoke quietly, not wanting anyone in the canteen to overhear. Axel raised an eyebrow.

"Give me back my cigs and it's a deal."

"Fine."

"Then it's done."

* * *

**Midnight**

* * *

With his bag at Axel's flat, his mother sound asleep at home, and his nerves fraying and his senses on edge, Demyx slowly made his way towards the woods. He was well aware that, the further he walked from the pavement to the edge of the wood, the less likely the possibility that someone could hear him scream. He was shaking, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He knew, the moment he crossed into the woods, that Zexion was behind him, following him in the darkness. It was unnerving just how easily the man could slink into the shadows; Demyx was only aware of his presence because he could feel the man's gaze on his back. Demyx kept walking until he reached a clearing in the forest, completely forgetting that he was actually supposed to just _wait _at the edge of the woods for the slate-haired man. Zexion must have been too curious to see where he was going to stop him.

Demyx walked into the middle of the clearing, where the moonlight was bright enough for them both to be seen, and sat down crossed-legged with a frown. Zexion left the safety of the darkness of the woods and sat opposite Demyx with his knees folded beneath him.

"I know… I know you may be wondering about what is going on…" Zexion started, cautious so as to not alarm Demyx. "And I'm well aware that you want to ask me questions. And that you're pathetically worried. So know this: I'm not going to hurt you."

For a reason that the blond couldn't quite find, he believed him. Trusted him, even. The man who had tried to _kill _him not three days earlier!

"Can I ask questions?"

"If you must." Zexion raised one slate-coloured eyebrow as Demyx started to fumble with strands of grass, frowning as he attempted to word his question.

"How many people have you killed in the past five years?"

"Eleven." Zexion spoke quickly and bluntly, stunning Demyx with his honesty. The thought of that many people being murdered caused his stomach to roll.

"And overall?" Demyx's voice was barely above a whisper, making Zexion want to cringe at his next answer.

"Fourteen." A lie.

"Why?"

"My first babysitter abused me. She would starve me, beat me, ignore me and leave me locked in my room for hours on end with nothing to do. When I turned sixteen and left school, I hunted her down and killed her. After that, I'd see a babysitter through a home window and just kill them." Zexion answered honestly; after all, Demyx wasn't a threat to him, he was simply curious. Demyx frowned.

"How did you not get caught?"

"I was careful. And before you ask, I got into the houses through anything large enough for me to slip through easily. Windows, unlocked doors. All I needed was a good pair of gloves and the occasional lockpick." At Demyx's raised eyebrow, Zexion had the grace to avert his eyes, however he looked up mere moments later, stared straight into Demyx's aqua eyes and spoke. "I don't regret a single thing I've done." He said those words with such clarity that Demyx felt a shiver go down his spine. Yes, Zexion was a killer, cold-blooded and unremorseful, so why was _he _here again?

"A final question. Why, Zexion, did you let me go?" Zexion seemed momentarily stunned at this question, although the look on his face was quickly covered up with a grimace.

"I don't know. I simply… I looked into your eyes, and something just _sparked_. I couldn't kill you, every part of my mind was screaming at me to stop immediately. I've always been able to control my mind and to have that happen…" Zexion shook his head. "All I knew was that I had to see you again."

Demyx gave a sympathetic smile, examining the man before him. His face, clearly one unaccustomed to many facial expressions, looked so confused and curious that Demyx had to refrain from awing at him. Almost on instinct, he leaned forward and placed a finger under Zexion's chin, forcing the man to look up at him directly.

"How old are, Zexion?"

"I'm twenty-six." Demyx had to stifle a gasp at that. This man was quite a bit older than himself!

"Ah. I'm seventeen, although I've only just turned it. I'm only in my first year of college, you see."

"Seventeen? You're handling this well for a- Shh!" Zexion cut himself off halfway through his sentence, leaning forward and clamping a hand down over Demyx's mouth. Demyx felt a surge of fear course through him, heightened by the view of Zexion's midnight eyes analysing the woods to their left. Demyx followed the direction of Zexion's eyes with his own, and swore his heart stopped at the faint silhouette of a man stood observing them from the thicket. When both of the young men's eyes reached him, he turned on his heel and ran through the woods. Zexion flew to his feet and cursed under his breath.

"Who was that?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be this agitated would I? If he heard our conversation…" Zexion snapped, starting to pace as he looked torn between staying with Demyx or taking chase after the man. Demyx made the choice for him, grabbing Zexion by the lapels of his coat and thoroughly snogging him before releasing him.

"Get after him, now. When will I see you again?" Demyx's voice was oddly weak as Zexion darted towards the edge of the woods. The slate-haired man turned and glanced at Demyx.

"I'll find you when I know I'm not being followed. Go back the way you came, I'll make sure you get home alright." Zexion gave him one last look as he removed a long length of rope from his coat pocket, pulling it tight as he blended into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Demyx didn't need to think twice before he was running in the opposite direction.


	5. Who?

**Zexion POV:**

I ran in the direction of a familiar scent. A familiar scent that I thought had died out along with my father. I had always thought that someone was watching me in the past five years, and it seems I was about to find out who. Following the common trail through the woods, the eerily silence spooked even me. The tree's were still, the birds and owls quiet, and the night sky black as ever. After I followed the trail for almost an hour, it came to a dead end. I sighed ,disappointed, and made my way back to my little campsite in a old deserted factory. When I got back, I froze in shock. There, lying on my makeshift bed was a small note.

_I know what you've been doing. You can't get out of these murders. I won't let you._

My already cold blood chilled, and I held my head in my hands, knowing that soon enough, I would be caught.

* * *

**Demyx POV:**

Now, I may be a happy person most of the time. But when I go to my English class, first thing on a Monday morning, and the subject is Romeo & Juliet, I start to get _pretty_ pissed.

"Right, raise your hand if you believe that love is unpredictable" Miss Gainsborough asked sweetly. I raised my hand, along with Axel, Riku, Sora, Cloud and Rude. "Ah, Demyx. Explain on why you believe love is unpredictable" She asked me.

"Well, that's simple. You can't control your feelings when It comes to a emotion as strong as love. So therefore, unknowingly, and maybe unwillingly, you fall in love, and you don't get a choice in the matter." I answered. Miss Gainsborough smiled nicely at me.

"Quite correct. Now, class, who here is unhappy with the prospect of forbidden love in Romeo and Juliet?" She asked. I raised my hand, along with Axel, Marluxia, Namine, Cloud and Reno.

"Ah, Demyx. You give good Answers. Why are you unhappy with the 'forbidden love' prospect?" She asked. I raised an eyebrow, before looking up again.

"Well, As I said before, you can't help who you fall in love with. So for love to be 'forbidden' is absolutely ridiculous. If you love someone, no matter the age difference, the personality difference, or a family feud, nothing should ever get in the way. If you love someone, you should be allowed to be with them, no matter how many people they've killed.." I answered. Miss Gainsborough raised an eyebrow.

"And by the amount of people they have killed, I assume you are referring to the fact that Romeo killed both Paris and Tybalt?" She asked. I froze, realizing what I had said. Axel elbowed me.

"Y-yes. That's exactly what I meant." I answered quickly, slumping lower and lower down in my chair. And so, I spent the next half hour of the lesson wondering if I would ever see Zexion again.

* * *

I was shocked when, on my way home, Axel pinned me up against a wall.

"Okay music man. What the _hell_ is up with you?!" He hissed. I shook my head...

"I Don't know what you're talking about..." I whispered. He pushed me harder onto the wall, my bones aching against the brick.

"Don't lie! You've been acting depressed ever since you came back from that babysitting job, and it's only gotten worse since Tuesday. What the _fuck is wrong _with you?" He snarled. I winced slightly, taking a deep breath.

"Let go of me, and I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything..." I whispered. Axel let go of me immediately, before gripping my wrist and dragging me over towards a park bench. I took another deep breath, and looked up at him.

* * *

Axel's face went from shock, to horror, to fear and then back to shock.

"S-so, you're telling me, that some murderer has fallen in love with _you_, and you're worried for _his_ safety?" He asked. I nodded.

"He just let me go that night...And Then when we met up on the Tuesday, he seemed so normal, I honestly thought I almost got the real Zexion out..."

"But he's _killed_ people Demyx.."

"I don't care Axel....I..I _Love_ him..." I admitted. And it was true. For some insane reason, I fell in love with a murderer.

"And so, the lion fell in love with the lamb." Axel quoted. I nodded.

"What a stupid depressing quote"

"I know"

"Please, don't tell anyone. He's managed to get away so many times, I don't want him to get caught because of me.." I pleaded. Axel nodded..

"I just can't believe it..." He stood up. "Don't worry, I'll keep quiet about this." He smiled, lit a cigarette and walked away.

* * *

I was stood in the middle of the towns shopping centre when I saw him was a Tuesday, and I had been watching a giant telly, when he came up behind me.

"Count to three, and then follow me." He had whispered. His voice sounded shaky, and for him, that was unusual. He walked ahead, and I counted to three, before following him. I could only just see him by his hair, and at some points I had to do a double take. When we had exited the centre, he turned, twisting down alleys and back roads, until he stopped at the abandoned warehouse. He motioned for me to follow him in, and so I did.

He slammed me against the wall, (people have a habit of doing that to me..) and started to make out fiercely with me. In that one kiss, there was passion, need, desperation and fear. I responded with only three of those emotions. I was no longer scared, and could not, for the life of me, understand why he was. I soon found out.

"Zex-"

"Shh..." He fisted my coat, burying his head in my chest. I kissed the top of his hair, waiting for him to speak. And he finally did.

"Someone...Someone _Knows_.."

"Knows what?" I asked.

"About me....They Know that I've killed. That I've murdered" He whispered, his voice shaky. I wrapped my arms around him tightly.

"Do you know who it is?" I asked. He snorted.

"I have a rough Idea..."

"Who?"

"My father....All These years I could have sworn someone was following me, watching me. I guess he was waiting for an opportune moment to turn me in, when It would affect me the most."

"How does now affect you most?" I asked, getting scared myself.

"Isn't it obvious? I can barely spend a week away from you. If he turns me in, I get life imprisonment. Me plus Life imprisonment equals very upset me" He whispered, clutching at my coat even tighter. In all my life, I never thought I would be comforting a murderer. Kinda reminds me of that song 'Rouste'...Heheh....The Irony.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up with a rather Sore ass. Yes, I had sex with Zexion in the middle of an abandoned factory. I vaguely remember him bringing me home, before I fell asleep in his arms. I Yawned, walking downstairs groggily. The house phone rang, and my mother answered it. I was about to stuff a piece of toast into my mouth when my mother handed me the phone, snickering at the state of my hair.

"Lemme alone mum...Hello?" I said down the phone.

"Demyx, it's me Axel...You Uh...Might wanna turn on the news.."

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, the next chapter will be the last.....But It will be long! And Also, pre warning: Vair sad...

So...COOKIES AND MUFFINS TO WHOEVER REVIEWS! Just don't complain that you want a muffin or a cookie, cuz now you have both!

Yeah...Until next chapter~**CloakedxSchemer**


	6. Revelations

**Demyx POV:**

I nodded to no one in particular, and shuffled towards the TV. My mum threw me the remote, and I lazily put in 501, causing Sky news to come up. My piece of toast was frozen in place in my hand, halfway to my mouth, and I dropped the phone in shock.

Zexion's face flashed across the screen, with a list of many names underneath. I heard Axel's voice shouting into the phone on the floor, and vaguely registered my Mum waving her hands in front of my face, nicking my piece of toast. But I continued staring at the screen, frozen in place.

Letters, numbers, words, sentences. All of them portrayed as something bad.

_14 murders in 7 years._

_Murder, death, decapitate, cold blooded, Heartless_.

Zexion wasn't completely heartless. As far as I knew, some small part of his heart belonged to me. It may belong to me unwillingly, but we both know that it's a fair exchange for my full heart that he owns. My heart no longer belongs to me. Someone turned him in, and I had to go and find him. Unfortunately, my mum refused to let me out of the house until I had completed all my chores.

So, three hours later, I was running from the house at high speed, ignoring my mums shouts to be careful, what with a murderer on the loose in town. Heheh, Ironic that I was about to go and visit that very murderer.

Reaching the shopping centre, I followed the path to the abandoned factory, seeing as going the road way would attract attention. I climbed quickly through the broken window, a jagged piece of the glass skewering my arm. I winced, but ignored the six inch long gash. I landed on my feet, causing a sharp smacking sound to reverberate through the room. Zexion snapped his head up from his bedroll, relief washing over his face as he saw me. I ran towards him, gathering him in my arms and holding him tightly. We stayed like that for several minutes, neither one of us wanting to break the comfortable silence. Eventually, he looked up at me. I nodded, deciding to speak first.

"This is the end, isn't it?" I asked. He nodded slightly. "Why does it have to be like this?"

"I don't know. I don't control other peoples mind." He answered me. I looked at him again, memorising every single detail that I could...

"Hm..Hold on. Your hair..It's different...Why?" I asked. He half smirked, half grimaced.

"I needed to get a new hair colour to throw the police off, and decided I would see their reaction if I walked straight into the shopping centre. Although, halfway there, some crazy redhead stopped me.." _Axel_..."And asked me what the hell I was doing. I told him, and he told me to 'park it' and that he would buy the dye for me. However, he got me a dye that was a shade darker. Not much difference.." He told me. I sighed...

"It was probably Axel. Was he tall, skinny and did he have two tattoos on his face?"

"Yeah..."

"It was Axel...He kinda knows about 'us'" I said quietly. Zexion nodded, before looking at my arm.

"What did you do?" He asked. I looked down at my arm, realizing how big and deep it was. It looked like a knife cut. Seeing it like this caused the pain to kick in. Twitching, I hissed as the blood continued flowing out of my arm, as the feeling of scissors cutting away at the skin washed over me. Zexion picked up a random sheet, gently wrapping it around my arm, doing his best to stop the bloodflow. I winced, a low growl escaping from between my teeth. Zexion immediately let go of my arm, guilt on his face. I too felt guilty, for making him shrink like that.

"Sorry.." We both said at the same time. We both smirked at the same time, and then both jumped up at the same time to snog the others face off. I put every bit of emotion into that kiss, knowing that it would be the last. Zexion did the same, and when we both pulled apart for air, I felt the tears cascading down my cheeks. Zexion reached up to wipe them from my face, but they just kept getting replaced. He kissed both my eyelids tenderly, softly, but I froze in place when I heard a clicking noise from outside. It seemed that he didn't hear it, so when I bit my lip in frustration, he looked at me oddly.

"What's wrong Demyx?" He asked me. I shook my head, listening to the voices outside. His head shot up, and he whipped around to face the door.

"Can you hear them?" I whispered, before falling to the floor, my knees buckling. I was so fucking stupid! If someone had told the police about Zexion, wasn't it obvious that they would follow me, then alert the police? Zexion turned and stared at me.

"Did...Did You? You didn't...Why?" He asked, voice strained, hurt and betrayal lining his voice. I shook my head.

"I-I d-didn't know. T-they must have f-f-followed me..." I answered, curling up and shaking violently. Zexion was going to be taken away, forever. He nodded once in understanding, leaned down to kiss my cheek, and then stared at the door.

"I'm willing to go quietly..." He murmured. We both winced as we heard a key turn in the lock and the doors opened. I could imagine exactly how this looked to an outsider. A murderer stood above me, me lying on the floor, shaking, crying and blood gushing from a wound that could have came from a knife. Axel stepped forward, grabbing Zexion's arms and pinning them behind him. Xigbar also stepped forward, picking me up and holding me together. I wriggled and struggled, but Xigbar wouldn't let me free. Staring up at Axel, I hissed one word, and one word only.

_"Traitor"_

An officer stepped forward, and I stopped myself from screaming when a gunshot went off, sending a 9mm tattoo towards Zexion's leg. I saw Axel let go of him, letting him fall to the floor, as he clutched his leg in agony, before I was thrown into my mothers arms. Everything after that happened quickly. Zexion was hauled out the door and into a police van. I was thrown into an ambulance, antiseptic being shoved into my wound. I heard a yell from the police van, my heart stopping as I overheard a police officer talking.

"What? I needed my bullet back, these things are expensive y'know?" I seethed at this, ignoring my mums repeated 'Are you okay?' I stared off into space, hoping that they would give me something to heal this pain. This is the closest I'm ever going to be to Zexion, before I lose him forever.

* * *

**Zexion POV:**

I lost him. I was stupid enough to put down my barriers. I foolishly let another human get close to me, and look at how its ended. Both of us torn and broken.

My court case was pretty much quick and simple. I saw no reason to lie, therefore, no proof was needed. However, as I looked up into the cold, grey eyes of my father, I knew he had mountains of it somewhere. I was accused guilty of all charges, and given 14 life sentences. As my father stared at me through his silver hair, I smirked at him, and he looked a taken back, scared. When the judge had looked me in the eye and told me I was heartless and brutal, I smirked. After all, I could only now feel two things. Pain, and anger. And I wasn't about to let them see my only weakness.

* * *

**Twenty Years Later. Demyx POV: **

I ran my fingers along the dusty bookshelf, smiling weakly. I had everything I could have possibly wanted, maybe even more. Haha...What a Lie. People who only see the surface of things, would think that I was as happy as a bee. I always had a smile on my face, I was famous, and I seemed happy.

People who see much deeper, however, know that me being happy, is a total lie. People who see me smile see that it's a facade, that it never quite reaches my eyes. People see that being famous is far from what I had wanted. And people see that I'm not truly happy, that it's just the mask.

I became famous in a rock band for three years at the age of twenty three. I published a 'fictional' book at the age of thirty. I laughed inwardly. Fictional book my ass. I published my own god damn diary. It was classed as horror/romance, seeing as it was based on the fictional affair of a murderer and his victim. Again, I laughed, my fingers subconsciously running along the long, jagged white scar along my left arm. My diary contained every single detail of every single moment I spent with a murderer, and detailed every single emotion I felt when I was away from him.

The murderer is called Zexion Numara.

He has 14 life sentences to serve. He is never allowed to be on patrol. And most painfully, I am never allowed to visit him. In twenty years, the image of his face grew dimmer, the outside frayed. I could no longer determine the exact colour of his eyes, or his hair. I couldn't determine the structure of his face, nor remember the feel of his lips on mine. Everyday I forget another thing about him, another detail. And everyday, the pain grows more intense. Everyone told me I would recover from my 'traumatic near death experience', but none of them ever knew that I was actually in love with the murderer.

And that brings me to where I am now.

Babysitting.

Oh the Irony.

I'm babysitting my cousins daughter, Arlene. The horrible, strange thing, is that she is a double of the little girl I was babysitting the night I met Zexion. Although, Larxene had a brother. Arlene does not.

I was sat in my cousins living room, staring at the TV programme, but not really watching it. I registered the phone ringing repeatedly, but ignored it until the fifth time.

"Okay...What The hell do you want?!" I hissed. Silence, and then:

"Have you checked the child?" A hoarse, familiar voice sounded through the phone.

"Zexion.." I whispered as I pulled the phone away from my ear in shock, grabbing the remote for the TV and switching to Sky News. The second it changed, I smirked. The main headline was;

_**Killer escapes from prison. Next possible target?**_

I held in a laugh as the lights went off, and numerous clicking noises were heard throughout the house, getting closer and closer to the room I was in. I heard the door behind me open, but I stood in my place, not turning my head, as I heard the footsteps growing closer and closer to my body.

_So quiet you were,_

_say what you want I don't care if it hurts me_

_Say what you want I don't care if it breaks me_

_In your eyes, I see inside._

"Hmm...Seems To me like you're no longer scared of the reaper..." His lips ghosted over my ear, causing me to surpass a shiver. I felt him smirk, before I was pulled into a kiss that I have needed for years. One of my hands creeped around his back, then other gripping a tuft of his hair on the back of his neck.

Unfortunately, we went no further, despite the twenty years of separation. He looked up at me in the eyes, practically reading my mind. He backed away...

"No..No. If you even _think-"_

"It's the only way...Or Would you rather be separated again?" I asked. He shook his head...

"I..I _can't_.."

"We'll do it together, at the same time.." I answered quickly. He continued shaking his head.

"Demyx..._No_ Chance...."

"Please...Zexion...I Want this..."

"But I don't!"

"Just do it..." I hissed. He looked up at me, and I could see that jail had turned him weak. Seeing the look in my eyes, he nodded, sighing in defeat. He walked ever so quietly out of the room, returning with two very sharp, very long kitchen knives. I took both of them, leading the way into the garden. The full moon shined brightly above us, and the entire garden, and surrounding woods were quiet. The stars looked down on us, probably cursing at what we were about to do. He took one of the knives from my hands, leaning up to give me one final kiss. I could see tears about to form in his eyes, but I remained firm. I wanted this, needed this. He poised the knife over my heart, and I mirrored his actions.

"One.."

"Two.."

_"Three"_

* * *

_"Shocking news, reported from Live on the scene. It seems that the mass murderer, Zexion Numara, is dead. His body was found alongside that of Demyx Nocturne, both with Identical stab wounds over their chest. It seems that from evidence collected, both killed the other. Also, it seems that, Demyx Nocturnes' famous book, 'Diary of a murder victim', is actually a real life account of Demyx life as he was held 'captive' by Zexion Numara. However, it seems that Demyx Nocturne really had fallen in love with his murderer. Truly, a sad end to a sad story. We can only hope that their souls will rest in peace."_ The reporter clicked off her microphone and Camera, and stared down sadly at the corpses of her only, slate haired son and his lover....

**A/N:**

There you guys have it....It is the end! However...I'm thinking of another story, possibly a sequel to this in their next life, but then again, maybe not...I might just make it a normal story lol =)

*Holds you all cookies, muffins and donuts*  
Review and you can take one!


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